Read Online Tuesday's Child (Heroines Born on Each Day of the Week Book 3) by Rosemary Morris - Free Book Online Page A

Gwenifer?”
    “You may.” Harriet put aside her needlework, a small shirt, then stood.
    “Gwenifer, I know you are pleased to meet Lady Castleton,” Dominic remarked, while the ladies assessed each other.
    “Good day, both of you are welcome.” Harriet indicated chairs and a sofa arranged at right angles to a pair of the lancet windows set deep in the stone wall. “Jarvis, some wine and refreshments for my guests.”
    “At once, my lady.”
    Before Dominic could broach the subject of a reference for Bessie, the earl joined them.
    Dominic bowed. He murmured a few courteous words in response to Pennington’s greeting, and wished the earl were elsewhere.
    At the age of sixty-five or more, Pennington, a dandy, rivalled gentlemen young enough to be his grandsons dressed in the height of fashion. His olive green broadcloth morning coat fitted him so well that, presumably, he struggled to move his arms. Without his valet’s help, he would find it difficult to pull up his pantaloons, which were moulded to his legs. His starched cravat, in the style called the Mathematical, probably took a long time to arrange. Not only women were vain! Dominic choked back a chuckle. Pennington’s starched shirt points were so high that if he attempted to turn his head to the right or left, he would fail.
    “Papa,” Lady Castleton began, “you are acquainted with Mister Markham. Have you have met his sister, Lady Gwenifer.”
    “I have not the honour,” Pennington replied.
    A slight frown marred Lady Castleton’s charming face. Perhaps she also wished her father-in-law had not joined them.
    The earl acknowledged Gwenifer’s curtsy with a bow. “
    My lady, you are very welcome to this house, in which your brother is considered a hero because he saved my grandson’s life.”
    “Yes, I heard he did, although he is too modest to mention it,” Gwenifer replied.
    Lady Castleton shuddered. It seemed the mere thought of her son’s escape from death made her feel faint. “Indeed we can never find a way to adequately express our gratitude.”
    “There is no need to speak of it,” Dominic murmured. “I did no more than anyone else would have done to save your son. I hope he has recovered from the experience.”
    “Yes. Thank you, he is well, but too frightened of the lake to even look at it through the windows.”
    Pennington frowned. He raised his hand, obviously about to run his fingers through his well-ordered white hair, but refrained. “I shall take Arthur to the shore. It will not do for my grandson to be a coward.” He lowered his hand to his side. “Whatever else one may say on the subject of his father, Edgar was not a poltroon although-”
    The colour in Lady Castleton’s cheeks increased. Her eyes narrowed. “Papa, I hope you are not on the brink of saying something derogatory. Yes, my late husband was not only courageous, he was also a gentleman.”
    Jarvis entered the drawing room with two footmen, who carried trays, which they placed on a mahogany pier table at the side of the room.
    Uneasy, Dominic’s jaw tightened. To judge by the way Pennington, who sat next to his daughter-in-law, looked sideways at her, she might have been a rare species of some unfamiliar, unwelcome creature.
    “Some wine, my child?” the earl asked. “You are over heated. It is not surprising. The weather is sultry. If I am not mistaken a thunderstorm is imminent.”
    “Papa, I am not overheated,” Lady Castleton protested.
    Dominic’s hands tightened. It seemed thunder and lightning, were not the only storm in the offing.” 
    Pennington stood and inclined his head towards Gwenifer. “I hope you will forgive me if I deprive you and my daughter of your brother’s company. I have a matter to discuss with him. “Come, Mister Markham.”
    Reluctant to endure a tete-a-tete with his host, Dominic stood. The earl seized his arm. Did his lordship fear he would baulk like a horse at a fence?
    Dominic struggled to conceal his instinctive